Ivory and Horn (ivoryandhorn) wrote in no_true_pair, @ 2008-06-30 19:16:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! 2008 twelve characters challenge, author: ivoryandhorn, crossover: naruto/x-men, pairing: itachi/x-23 |
"Poetry in Motion" - Naruto/X-Men - Itachi/X-23
Title: Poetry in Motion
Author/Artist: ivoryandhorn
Fandom: Naruto/X-Men
Pairing/Characters: Itachi/X-23 (okay, so it's more like Itachi-->X-23 at this point); Shisui
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Prompt Answered: Week 1 - The beginning of X-23 and Itachi's passionate love affair.
Length: ~2000
Author's Notes: I wanted this to be all about X-23. Instead, it's all about Itachi. I'm still glad that I managed to get something out for this list, and for this prompt in particular. These are two of my favorite characters. :)
He supposes it should be an honor to be given command of a squad so young, but he cannot find any joy in his heart: only the same old weariness beneath the same old anger beneath the same old discontent. Command only means more paperwork, means more time he cannot spend with Sasuke; there has already been entirely too much of that for his taste.
Nonetheless, it would not do to tip his hand too early when he is yet unsure of allies, and if he must be captain, then he will be a captain befitting a shinobi of his stature.
“I am Mouko-taichou, your captain. I wish to see what you are capable of before Hokage-sama assigns our first mission. That is why you have been called here.”
He surveys them impassively from behind the eyeholes of his mask; he has been given the youngest of the ANBU, perhaps geniuses and prodigies, most likely shinobi who bought their way with influence and have no business holding even a kunai. Beneath the porcelain of his mask he feels his face twist in a frown; he has no doubt that he has at least one foot in the latter category, courtesy of his father, and the thought irks him deeply though his other foot is most certainly in the former.
He is heartened, though, to see Shisui, recognizes him by his loose-limbed build and dog’s mask, by the tufts of brown hair behind it. It is good to know that there is at least one other competent shinobi on his team. The other person is unknown to him: no matter. That is what this meeting is for.
“Souku-san. Your file says you specialize in ninjutsu and tracking. I have hidden an object in the forest. You have ten minutes to retrieve it.”
Shisui flips him a salute; he would hazard a guess that he winks as well, though of course his face is hidden by his mask. Impossible to know the truth of his actions. Shisui vanishes in a blur, Itachi motions for the other to follow him as he tracks Shisui tracking his hours old trail.
He has faith in his friend’s ability; indeed, perhaps knows Shisui’s strengths and weaknesses as well as Shisui himself. Perhaps better.
But that’s no reason to go easy on him. Quite the opposite, in fact.
Shisui takes three minutes to find the clearing, flashing through the forest so quick and light he barely disturbs the leaves littering the ground with his passing, until he happens upon the correct clearing. It takes him five minutes to battle through the illusions and traps Itachi placed all around the little dirt mound at the clearing’s center, blasting through each obstacle with katon jutsu, each flashier than the last (he makes a note to speak with Shisui about his propensity for showmanship.). Shisui even manages to bypass the jutsu Itachi had set on the buried paper to maim the opener.
He presents Itachi with the folded paper with a flourish, devoid of traps of any kind, with a minute to spare. Just as Itachi expected.
*
The last of their number is a small, compact kunoichi with long black hair that she wears loose (he makes note to speak to her about the impracticality of such and the usefulness of hairties.). The rising wind lifts it about her shoulders, whips it into her raptor mask, but she seems unperturbed.
“Fukuro-san is still recovering from his last mission, so I will meet with him later. Tsume-san, your file says your specialties are infiltration and taijutsu. I will test the first later. For now, though…”
He unslings the heavy scroll from over his shoulder and flicks it open; from the spiral at its center he pulls three wooden figures that he props up on the ground, limbs and head lolling. Itachi dabs each dummy’s forehead with chakra and watches them rise out of their slouches, limbs stiffening with purpose, the dull glow of power emanating from their carved eyes and mouths. Each of their four arms is tipped with long curved blades, freshly sharpened edges gleaming in the afternoon sun.
Shisui follows him into the trees. The dummies array themselves in a loose arc before her.
“You have five minutes. Destroy them.”
The dummies move in to attack.
There is only a moment when he sees the claws pop out from her clenched fists, two per hand, and then she is a blur, charging without a word at her attackers. It is only by the grace of the Sharingan that he sees what Tsume-san does: she shears all of the arms from the first with a single blow, blocks a kick from the second and decapitates the third before bodily ripping the first in two. She stabs another dummy through the head with a claw in her foot, flings it off with a single kick. It hits a tree, shatters in an explosion of splinters.
Itachi watches her move and feels, for some inexplicable reason, off-balance, dizzy—if she were a poem, he thinks distantly, she could be nothing other than a haiku. Simple in its complexity, elegant in its ferocity, no brushstroke wasted in conveying its intent.
He is thinking in metaphors. Why is he thinking in metaphors?
The last dummy has been reduced to so much firewood, brutally hacked to pieces in seconds. She has finished with three minutes to spare.
He is impressed. When was the last time he was so impressed?
“Hot damn,” he hears Shisui mutter beside him (he makes a note to speak with Shisui about the place of informality during formal missions.).
“Excellent work,” he says, letting out the breath he had not known he was holding. This is disturbing; she is merely efficient and highly skilled at what she does, but so is Shisui, so is he. It shouldn’t matter that he has never, in all his years, seen any shinobi move as she does. He has never seen anyone move so fast from stillness to action and back again, lacking uncertainty of any kind.
She inclines her to head acknowledge him, but says not a word.
*
“Oh maaaaan did you see her? I mean, of course you did, but did you really see her? Have you ever seen anyone move like that? Ever?”
He hears the crunch of grass of Shisui beside them, the two of them taking the long way over the Nakano Bridge back to the Uchiha compound now that Itachi has finished with the first two thirds of his new team. The sun is beginning to set, slung low in the sky. Its red light floods the fields around him.
He tries to focus on the conversation, but Shisui’s voice sounds registers as much as the roar and flow of the Nakano River; instead, he sees Tsume-san in his mind, replays her bout with the dummies in the clearing.
She hadn’t even used any jutsus—perhaps not even any chakra. Just attacked, ripped them apart with nothing but the strength in her bare hands and those claws. He looks down at his own roughened palms; her moves are already imprinted in his mind—nothing he doesn’t know already, amazingly enough. Nothing unknown to him save for their sheer speed and power.
“Yoohooooo, Konoha to Itachiiii…”
He jerks back from Shisui’s hand flailing in his face. “What are you doing?”
“Just making sure you’re still with me!” Shisui grins at him over the high collar of his shirt, Uchiha crest emblazoned on his chest.
“I am.”
“Then what did I just say?”
“Something about Tsume-san.”
“Ah, but what?”
“How should I know? You’ve been repeating yourself for the past ten minutes.”
“Aha! So you weren’t listening!”
“But I was right.”
“…Fine, you were. But only just!”
Shisui will sulk the rest of the walk back to the compound if Itachi does not say something, so he asks, “What were you going on about?”
His friend leans in and waggles his eyebrows with a lecherous grin. “How cute do you think Tsume-chan is under that mask?”
This isn’t the first time Shisui has asked him for an opinion about the relative beauty of some village girl or the other, or even the occasional village boy, despite Itachi’s subtle and not-so-subtle hints that he finds the subject boring and irrelevant beyond all reason. But for some reason, this time Shisui’s request makes him feel off-balance again, like when he watched her tearing his practice dummies to shreds.
Unbidden, an image rises in his mind—the tiny 2x3 photo from her file. A pale face, attractive enough, save for her solemn expression. Bright green eyes that reveal nothing, not to the camera, not to the viewer. Her pale cheeks framed by falls of inky hair.
He pictures that face out in the sun instead of the hook-beaked mask, pictures that inky hair whipped across that pale face, solemnity discarded in favor of a silent snarl as she leaps to attack, those bright eyes focused on one thing and one thing alone…
“H-How should I know?” he pushes past Shisui and continues across the bridge, feeling uncomfortable in his skin, warmer than the cool autumn wind warrants. What is this feeling?
Shisui catches up easily enough. His sly smile speaks of nothing good. “Oooo…does ickle Itachi-chan have an ickle crush?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” The very idea is ludicrous. Crushes are for children. He is not a child anymore.
“Oh, but I think you doo-ooo!” Shisui flutters his eyelashes outrageously at him, sighing dramatically with hands clasped. “Ah…young love! You know, it figures you’d fall for the girl who could rip you apart without even trying. Freak.”
“Shisui. Get out of my way; I’m going to be late for dinner.”
“Itachi and—whatever her name is—sitting in a tree~”
*
By the time they near his house Itachi is about ready to kill something, driven to the brink by Shisui’s ceaseless singing. He thinks longingly of tripping Shisui into the Nakano, drowning out his voice, if only for a moment—but it’s too late for that. They’ve finally, finally made it back to his house.
He interrupts Shisui’s umpteenth rendition of that inane song. “Do you want to join us for dinner?”
Shisui just shakes his head and makes a face. “Both my ‘rents are in town, so I promised to eat with them. If you don’t see me tomorrow, it’s because my dad’s cooking finally did me in.”
He watches Shisui lope away, stride long and relaxed, before he walks into the house to face his family.
*
After yet another meal spent studiously ignoring his father’s presence, Itachi sits at his desk and meticulously writes out a report to his superior about his opinion of his new subordinates’ ability and suitability, sans the fool still in the hospital.
He hears the door of his room slide open. “…Nii-san?”
“What is it, Sasuke?”
His brother looks almost afraid, clutching a textbook in his small hands. “Can you…will you help me with my homework?”
“Later, Sasuke. I’m busy right now.”
But Sasuke does not leave, simply stands there. Just before Itachi is about to ask why he hasn’t yet returned to his room, his brother speaks in a rush. “Who was Shisui-san talking about when you got home?”
Itachi thinks of metal claws gleaming in the sun, of a red and white mask shaped like a bird of prey, of focused green eyes bearing down on him.
“No one."
Sasuke does not appear to believe him, indeed appears to be about to speak again, so Itachi takes pre-emptive action. "Let me see your book; what did you say you were having trouble with?”
Sasuke’s face immediately brightens and just as Itachi hopes, he forgets any thought about Shisui and Shisui’s awful singing, focused instead on memorizing the guidelines of a successful interrogation.
In truth he does not know why his mind will not leave Tsume-san alone, why Shisui persists in his less-than-subtle hints about whatever he thinks should be obvious but isn’t to Itachi. But those are problems for another time, another day: for now, he has promised to help his brother. And he shall.
But she will not leave his thoughts.
*
*
*
Translation Notes
(I'm getting this all off the internet & scanlations, so corrections are welcome)
Mouko: fierce tiger
Souku: hound; hunting dog
Tsume: talon
Fukuro: owl
Shinobi: ninja
Kunoichi: a female ninja
Jutsu: ninja technique
Taijutsu: ninja techniques that deal with enhancing hand-to-hand combat
Ninjutsu: ninja techniques that deal with anything other than taijutsu or genjutsu (casting illusions)
Katon jutsu: ninjutsu that focus on manipulating fire, ie. blowing giant fireballs